


Fleeting Peace

by Kazimir



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Lima Syndrome, Morning Cuddles, No Smut, Reader-Insert, Stockholm Syndrome, Vaas is a secret softy im sure of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazimir/pseuds/Kazimir
Summary: My first step into Far Cry works. Just a short work about a sweet morning with Vaas, showing a bit of his softer side. Input is appreciated.





	Fleeting Peace

“Wake up, Hermana.” A burly arm snaked it's way around you as a tired mutter filled your ear. “Another busy day...” 

The sun shone through the window to the rutty cabin aggressively. Bright, hot, and urging you to abandon your place on the soft bed. Stretching under the tangled sheets with a sigh, you prepared yourself for the day ahead while warm lips kissed your neck and jaw softly, the man with whom you shared a bed no longer ashamed of his tendency to be disgustingly affection when awoken peacefully or of his own accord in the morning, and you no longer irked by his presence or touch. He rested his scratchy, stubbly cheek on yours for a moment, content with enjoying the peaceful moment in the fresh, morning air and unprepossessing shacky house he had come to see as a home after so many years. 

The phone rang, and you felt his smirk fade. He quietly rolled out of bed to grab the phone from the pocket of the jeans that lay sprawled messily on the floor as your eyes followed him.

“Hello?” 

His voice had lost it's tiredness and affection, and was purely devoid of playfulness or aggression, signifying this was a business call. The condescendingly friendly South African accent was loud enough to be carried to and recognized by your ears, though not enough for you to distinguish the words that it spoke. Vaas' face quickly communicated all that you needed to know, brows furrowing in annoyance as the voice on the other end grew even louder, tone remaining falsely cordial and apologetic. Okay, Hoyt, Alright, he said. He knows. Yes, it will be done today. He's sure. Okay, Hoyt. And the call was concluded as abruptly as it had begun, and the air had grown tense. You took his heavy sigh as your signal to climb out of bed finally and get dressed in silence as he did the same. There was a small moment of hesitance in his body as he turned towards you rigidly before turning back to head towards the door miserably. After so many months on Rook island, at first forced and then eager to be in Vaas' company near constantly, you had at least learned to read his body language well, a necessary skill when you're the delegated bitch of a hard drug addicted, temperamental soul, and probably, in part, why you've lasted so long. It took no genius to see when the pressure of his job was getting to Vaas, which was more than any proud man would be willing to admit, but it did in fact take a properly adjusted perspective to know when and how to relieve the stress. Of course, he wouldn't hesitate to inform you when what he needed included sex, drugs, violence, or a combination of all three, but, bless his pride, he still seemed almost wholly unable to express his need for the small kisses, hugs, affectionate words, that you had accidentally started to get him accustomed to. When his needs were incommunicable by him, it was your rare turn to take initiative. Before he could reach to pull the cabin door open, you roughly wrapped your arms around him and pushed yourself into his chest, a soothing chuckle greeting the action. 

“Oh, cariña.” He sighed as his arms enveloped you and lifted you slightly off the ground in a tight hug. Your head in the crook of his neck, you were able to take in the scent that warmed your core with affection. Cheap cigarettes, earthy jungle, and his natural musky, strong, appealing aroma. After a peaceful moment, he set you down, mood clearly lightened. As you smiled at the hazel eyes you had grown to love, he pulled you in one final time, leaning down and cupping your face to give you a soft kiss. As his lips parted to say something while his hands still cupped your face gently, a loud, accented pirate yelled from outside the cabin door, abolishing the serenity you had created. 

“Vaas, get up, we have to-” The voice began to be interrupted by the wooden door crashing open and an enraged shout. 

“I know, I KNOW, I know what I have to do, shut the fuck up!” Vaas yelled storming up to the surprised man and gesturing aggressively. The peace is always nice while it lasts, at least. You stepped out of the cabin slowly, with a smile, and swung the newly broken door back into it's place as best you could.


End file.
